The maps helps. I had misunderstood a bit. Thanks!"Let's check the bunker first so we don't have anything behind us." Mishael will approach the opening into the bunker and check for any threats.
Perception1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

Silas emerges onto solid land with the ease of a lifelong sailor, and wastes no time in drawing his blades once more. Can't be too careful. He follows Mishael as she enters the bunker, ready to slice up any foolish cultists that bar their path.

As usual Kariselle and Suny seem to be the last to enter the buinker, following the others. Karsielle lets the others walk on in front and lets just enough light to escape from her dagger to show her steps ahead.

As Mishael walks up the ramp to the small shack, a grey-skinned creature steps out. "Rahrgen! Wingret, peniffilact?" he barks out and Mishael can see that the muscular humanoid has no eyes in his sockets.

He looks past Mishael to Bloody, disguised as Artued, and yells more words at him. "Rahrgen! You Rahgren!" as he points towards the portcullis that was just opened.

"If I don't miss my guess, I think he's simply annoyed that we haven't gone through the porticullis," Silas says as he slips he blades away. "I can't see any harm in simply going on our way. He doesn't exactly look dangerous to me."

All, I'm about to go on vacation and will be without a computer for some time. So this game will be on hiatus for a little over a week. I will return on June 5th and we'll get deeper into this underground lair!

Up on the platform that leads to the creature's small shack, Suny can see a battle axe resting up against one of the walls. Apparently the creature doesn't consider the group a threat.

With everyone back in their boats, they row through the open portcullis. As they approach, banging and gurgling sounds grow louder.

Once through the portcullis and into the next chamber, the source of the banging and gurgling comes from two 10-ft-diameter stone pipes that shoot up into the ceiling. Everything in the room glistens with moisture and the water around the pipes seems to roil and pop. A pathway on the opposite side of the room curves into darkness.

"Be careful of those pipes, don't be drawn onto them, I don't trust the waters behavior around them." says Karsielle as the boat she is in follow on. She takes a copper coin and drops it in the water, "Lets hope for some luck from the gods on this passage."

The two boats pass through the chamber staying away from the pipes and close to the walkway along the walls. Karsielle inspects the pipes as she passes by them and it appears to her that there is some sort of pressure building up that periodically gets released based on all of the moisture on the walls.

The portcullis on the south side of the room is open and leads to a stone walkway.

Perceptions, please. The tunnel is narrow, so give me your marching order also.

Silas once again draws his blades, not about to wander around down here with no armaments. "Indeed, let us get going. I think finding out what waits down here will be far safer than waiting to see what lies in the water."

A the end of a short passage stands a rusted metal door. Bloody and Silas both hear voices behind it. The thick door muffles the number of voices and any understanding of what is being said, although whoever lay beyond the door seems to be talking calmly.

Karsielle smiles, the tip of her whip flips upwards from the priestess' subtle turn of her wrist as her hand holds its handle, before the sharp tip is lying once more on the ground. "Be bold 'Artued', they may recognize you if you enter."

Bloody, to save some time I rolled the next perception for you. Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24

After "Artued" shouts his order a moment of silence passes before a bit of commotion. Someone shouts at someone else behind the door and then more muffled talking can be heard. Bloody thinks for a moment that it sounds as though one of the voices was casting a spell, although he can't be sure.

Then the door opens to reveal a bizarre scene. The chamber beyond is laid out like a strange laboratory or workshop. Pegs and racks mounted to the walls hold a variety of jagged chisels, rusted bonesaws, tubes, straps, pipes, and jars of mysterious fluids. Pressed against the walls rest three tables with half dissected corpses splayed upon them, a fourth table bears an arrangement of different limbs, rivets, wires, sewing needles and leather straps. An ice-filled barrel stuffed with miscellaneous body parts leaks watery blood into a drain in the floor.

There are four humanoids in the room. Two appear to be cultists dressed in ebon robes and expressionless black masks while the other two are creatures similar to the one operating the portcullis in the guard shack except that they are donning some sort of bizarre apparatus made from what looks to be a pair of human spines.

As the door opens a sweetly pungent scent as those found in the mortuary wafts over the group. The two humanoids with the mask stand motionless, their heads bowing down.